


Christmas Hannibloom

by Domino_2014



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Family, New Beginnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 06:26:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5529395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Domino_2014/pseuds/Domino_2014
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year after the ending of the show, Alana and Hannibal meet again. </p><p>A Christmas gift to Ilda, the one who deserves this gift and so much more :D</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Hannibloom

Christmas Hannibloom

 

 **A/N** : A gift to Ilda for everything she’s done for me, just by being there. Merry Christmas bunny and a wonderful New Year.

 

*  * *

  

Alana Bloom was browsing the rows of books in the small corner bookstore. Every now and then her blue eyes would fly to the corner where an elderly woman sat on a low chair, reading a story to a bunch of children. Her voice rose and was full of emotions as she gave voice to the written words, much to the enjoyment of the children. A soft smile grazed Alana’s lips watching her son's eyes widen in amazement with the story.

 

She sighed and closed her own eyes momentarily. This move to England wasn't all she had imagined it to be, but she had adapted to the change and was enjoying herself.

 

Morgan had adapted with the first friend he'd made there. His first friend ever actually for their previous lives in the US hardly let the boy make any friendships but it had put a strain to Alana's personal life. Her girlfriend and aunt to her son, Margot, had hated it. She missed their old life; she missed her charities and horses and despised Alana for adapting. She had even began being short with Morgan, driving the child to seek Alana out to play. The change in the child's loyalties, he had always been closer to Margo since Alana was working all day, was one of the final nails in the relationship between the two women.

 

The other nail was Alana's refusal to return to America. The small family had left the US when Alana's old mentor and current guest in the prison for the criminally insane broke free. Hannibal Lecter, former surgeon turned psychiatrist turned cannibalistic serial killer, had threatened Alana specifically a number of times during his incarceration. Alana and Margot knew full well that once he was free, he'd go for them, so they fled the US for Europe. After a short while of traveling, they settled for England, in a city near London enough to appease Margot's love for a big city, but secluded enough to allow them to start fresh. However a week after Hannibal's escape, he was pronounced dead. Taking the news in a festive spirit, Margot wanted to go back. Alana didn't. Torn between his mothers Morgan chose his new life and his friends. Margot left them and for the first six months she called regularly but she stopped once when, due to bad planning, Morgan was at a sleepover and Alana had a few friends over for movies and dinner.

 

Their over the phone fight had truly broken them and there had been complete radio silence since. The silence had hurt Morgan the most. Privately Alana was wondering if there was something to be broken in the first place. Outside the bedroom, she and Margot were closer to housemates who shared a purpose. Once that purpose was gone, first with the death of Margo's abusive, sexist pig of a brother and father of Morgan and the family fortune landing on Morgan who at the time was a fetus inside Alana, and then with Hannibal's death, the two women drifted apart. If Alana was honest with herself, she didn't miss Margo at all. Morgan did, but he was young and frequent play dates with his new friends kept him busy enough. He still inquired over auntie Margot, as he had taken to call her once she left them, but Alana had no news to give him. She knew her former girlfriend was alive and well through the lawyers of the pig farm Morgan had inherited and she knew Margot was still accepting the monthly allowance Mason’s will allowed her until Morgan was of age to take over his inheritance. Till then, Alana read over all business arrangements and let the board of directors do their job while she taught psychology in the university. Just what she always wanted.

 

"Are you going to buy that book or will you leave me to take the cooking classes by myself?"

 

An accented voice spoke quietly to her and Alana barely held in the squeal as she twirled around to glare at the woman next to her.

 

"You know Carol, giving me a heart attack isn't the way to keep this friendship going"

 

The blond woman raised her hands laughing. Carol Jordan was cop and a good one.

 

"Sorry sorry"  
"Sure you are"

 

Alana laughed along, pushing a dark strand of hair from her eyes.

 

"What are you doing here?"  
"I was passing by and saw your car. Thought I'd come in to say 'hi'"

 

Carol's bright grin didn't convince Alana for a minute. She didn't need to be a psychologist to know her friend was nervous

 

"Tony is being released tomorrow, isn't he?"

 

She asked perceptively. Carol sighed and nodded. Tony was Carol's best friend and he was hospitalized after the removal of a brain tumor. He was also Alana's coworker at the university they taught and a good friend. Now Carol and Tony would take the turn from friendship to relationship as neither could hide their feelings any more. Carol had wanted to cook for the man so she had decided to take a crash course at cooking. Alana had decided to tag along hoping it'd keep her friend calm enough to avoid poisoning the man.

 

"You know if the cooking class is a bust, you can always order curry. You both love it"

 

Carol's only response to poke her tongue out. Alana rolled her eyes and handed the cook book she held to Carol, taking another one for herself and mechanically knelt as Morgan came rushing to them and jumped in her arms.

 

"Come on, let's pay"

 

Outside at the cold winter air neither woman shivered. Carol was London born and bred and used to the weather and Alana privately mused that Christmas at Virginia weren't much warmer. At least it hadn’t snowed yet.

 

"Can I go play with Mister Tony momma?"

 

Morgan asked for the umpteenth time. He really liked Tony despite the man's scattered brain and affinity for serial killers. Alana had once joked that Tony Hill was England's response to Will Graham. The only difference was that Tony had Carol to pull him back from the abyss, unlike Will who refused anyone's help. Carol saw the pensive look in Alana's eyes and tickled the young boy before replying.

 

"Sure you can. Your mom and I will drop you off at my flat"  
"I made him a card"

 

Morgan stated proudly. Carol stifled a snort when she saw the card in question was solar yellow with a grey cloud that read "I'm glad you're not dead".

 

"I'm sure he'll like it"

 

She reassured Morgan and stood back to let Alana strap him into the car seat. Then she put a hand on her friend's arm

 

"Are you okay?"

 

Alana rubbed her eyes and ran a hand through her hair before nodding

 

"Yeah. It’s just... today marks a year from will's death. Hannibal's death. Margot leaving me. It just hit me that is all"  
"I'd say 'fuck them' but it's not as simple, is it?"  
"It never is"

 

Alana let out a dark chuckle and shook her head to clear it before she handed carol the car keys.

 

"Can you drive? I'm not sure I can drive us without turning us into a pretzel around a tree"  
"Gladly"

 

*  *  *

 

A few hours later and a cup of hot tea, Alana was wrapping a chef's apron around her waist. Carol was an incredible listener and their chat over tea had helped her. Fingering one of the sharp knives, she admitted to herself that the biggest loss she mourned that day wasn't the loss of her wife, or that of her friend, but Hannibal. She missed their early friendship. She missed their chats over wine about life. She missed their banter about patients they had. She even missed being in his kitchen, in his inner sanctuary, helping him cook. She missed him. The PhD in her told her that what she missed was never real, that it was part of her being blind as he had put it but she knew better. Even if Hannibal was pulling the cotton wool over her eyes for so long, there were times where he was honest with her, even if his choice of red meat was kept secret.

 

Speaking of red meat, this was the first time in nearly three years that she would come in contact with meat. She had become a strict vegetarian after said cotton wool was ripped from her eyes and she had gone flying off a window.

 

Enough!

 

She told herself pulling herself together and only then releasing her death grip on the knife. Hannibal was dead, so was his hold on her. Taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out, she stood straighter. She was no one’s victim anymore. She had gone under therapy with Tony until she could find who she was before the entire Chesapeake Ripper mess and had allowed her new and awakened self to mess with that innocent Alana and she liked the result. She felt Carol's hand on her shoulder and saw her friend's green eyes cloud with concern. Alana smiled back and whispered

 

"Let’s chop us some wabbits"  
"That's the spirit"

 

An accented voice congratulated and when Alana looked up she saw Hannibal’s dark red eyes drink her up.

 

*  *  *

 

The cooking class was over and the seven students sat around a large table where Hannibal Lecter under the name of Michel something or another, was sampling the dishes the students had prepared. Alana had never wished more for a glass of strong wine in her life as Hannibal went from student to student assisting, correcting or praising the dishes.

 

He hadn't touched her and he hadn't spoken to her anything other his initial greeting. Probably because Alana always kept the sharp knife close to hand, his old threat "you and your family belong to me because you died in my kitchen" ringing in her ears.

 

Carol must have sensed the animosity because she stuck by her mentally cataloguing anything and everything the chef did and once the class was over she put a hand firmly in the small of Alana's back and ushered her out of the restaurant and into the cold night air.

 

"Who is he?"  
"You'd never believe me"

 

*  *  *

 

In the end Alana bought a bottle of wine and told Carol everything. The DCI already knew the basics of Alana's past, she was the one who checked the woman out when Tony introduced them to each other after all, but she hadn't gotten the full details before. Carol's first instinct was to ring the foreign office and alert them to Dr Lecter's presence in England. Alana stopped her.

 

"Lana..."  
"No. For one thing, I'm tired of running. Secondly, he won't do anything to me tonight. Thirdly, Hannibal is a planner and if he really is here to try and kill me, then you and your cops will only get in the way. Just keep Morgan for tonight, will you? I don't want him to be here if something does happen"

 

Carol glared at her friend but eventually nodded.

 

"Promise me you'll call the moment you need me? And keep that gun closely"

 

Alana's lips quirked in a half smile.

 

"Pinky promise"

 

*  *  *

 

When she entered her apartment later that night, she wasn't surprised to find that the alarm was disabled nor that Hannibal was sitting in the wing armchair in her living room. In front of him a bottle of wine was opened to breath. Calmly Alana removed her purse to set in the loveseat and threw her overcoat over the back of it before leaning against it.

 

"I would point out the rudeness in breaking and entering, but I suspect it won't make a difference. What are you doing here Hannibal?"

 

She was glad to find that her voice didn't betray her nerves. Hannibal let a small smile grace his lips.

 

"Would you believe me if I said I missed you?"  
"Not for a minute"

 

The truth was that Hannibal hadn't come to Europe for Alana specifically. He had decided to reinvent himself after finding out the authorities had declared him dead once Will's body had been found, and Holland seemed like a good place to do so. He had *acquired* a new ID as a head chef in a five star restaurant and was enjoying implementing the menu and being congratulated for it. He had laid low while developing a new technique to ensure he wouldn't be caught again, choosing victims nobody would miss and that the police wouldn't care even if someone did.

 

He was in England for a shopping spree when he read an article about a psychologist assisting the police in a series of brutal murders. It wasn't the psychologist in the photograph that had caught his eye however. It was the woman in the background, laughing along with another man about something. It was Alana.

 

A few trips later and he had seen enough of her to know he wanted her back. He had seen her being happy with the little boy that looked nothing like Mason at a park, playing with a small black and white dog, eating lunch with the man from the photograph, poring over files with the blonde that was with her at the cooking class. He missed that carefree and readily given smile. He missed the way her eyes would tighten when she was truly angry. He missed the curve of her lips when she saw more than the ordinary people did.

 

He missed her.

 

At first he thought he'd kill her as promised but that idea left him with a bitter taste in the mouth. What could he do if he didn't kill her though? The answer had come to him like a lighting bolt when he saw her toss in the air that nose-picking, pint sized version of herself at the Santa’s village on his last trip.

 

Win her back.

 

*  *  *

 

Now her blue eyes took him in and their surroundings. She didn't seem scared, he noticed. In his search of the apartment he had found a gun case in her bedroom, the gun missing. He assumed she had it with her.

 

"I do. I take it with me each day"

 

She said as if she had read his mind. Dark red eyes met light blue ones

 

"Have a glass of wine with me?"

 

He poured them each a glass and held out one to her. Alana remained unmoving

 

"What will my autopsy read? Suicide by whatever it is you've added to that bottle?"  
"Why do you believe I would kill you in such a mundane way? I'm hurt"

 

He mocked and took a sip of the rich white wine himself. Alana rolled her eyes and circled the loveseat to sit down.

 

"That's true. A run of the mill death won't do. You need to take your time with my remains"

 

Her nonchalant way of speaking about her body scared him. Had he done that? Where was the spitfire she'd always been?

 

"I also assume that any harm falling to you, will lead your lady cop friend all over me immediately"

 

Alana's lips curled to a smile

 

"That too"  
"Have a drink with me. For old times sake"

 

He proposed again

 

"Which old times? When you were pretending to be my friend and mentor, or when you were using me as a pawn in your mind games with Will?"

 

Naturally she had to see his issue with perfect clarity. Hannibal sighed

 

"I never pretended to be your friend and mentor Alana. Never doubt that"

 

His voice was stern and cold.

 

"Tough"

 

She responded taking a sip of her wine. Then she walked to the front door and opened it

 

"Please leave"

 

Hannibal complied. Once he crossed her threshold he turned to wish her goodnight but the door was firmly shut.

 

*  *  *

 

It was a slow beginning but by the time Christmas Eve arrived and with it Morgan's birthday, Alana and Hannibal texted each other almost daily talking about everything and nothing, work, the restaurant, various events in the city. Their face to face meetings were always held somewhere with a lot of people and Alana refused to let him cook for her or even prepare her a drink. She never allowed Morgan to attend their meetings either. Tony had called the outings 'dates'. Alana had retorted that they weren't but deep inside her she was wondering the same thing. Were they dates?

 

*  *  *

 

On Morgan's birthday, Hannibal felt nervous. He had received Alana's invitation to her son's birthday party and he hadn't had a clue as to what to do. The present was easy enough, a book. "The Little Prince", he hoped Alana would get the meaning of the gift. Standing at Alana's building foyer he took a breath, patted his clothes to remove all creases, held the present more firmly and tightened his hold on the bag with Alana's gift. A bottle of wine. Not one of his own brews unfortunately, but he wanted to respect her new boundaries. He hoped to be allowed to offer her one of those soon.

 

Arriving at the floor Alana lived at, he almost winced at the sound of excited children's voices. How could such small beings be so loud? He raised a hand to knock on the decorated door and smiled expecting Alana to open the door. When his smile was met with air, he was confused. Then he looked down at the small boy hiding behind the now open door.

 

"Hello"

 

Hannibal greeted the boy with the mop of dark hair and startlingly blue eyes. A party hat sat on the child's hair. It was strange to see Mason's I-stuck-a-finger-in-the-wall-socket hairstyle on the boy but he bore no other similarities to his father. The rest of him was pure Alana.

 

"Hi"

 

The object of his thoughts appeared and put an arm on her son's shoulder.

 

"Buddy what have I said about opening the door?"  
"That I can do anything I want on my birthday?"  
"I don't think so"  
"Uncle Kevin said it"

 

The child said with a charming smile. Alana bit back a smile and rolled her eyes instead.

 

"I see I'm going to have a few words with Kevin"

 

She snorted and stood up again.

 

"Morgan, this is my old friend Michel. Michel, this is my son Morgan"  
"Why do you have a girl's name?"

 

Morgan asked Hannibal. Alana winced but Hannibal knelt to the child's level and responded.

 

"I'm French. For us the name Michel is a unisex name. Both men and women can have it"

 

The boy looked at him for a minute as he processed the new information but then he nodded.

 

"Can I go play now mom?"  
"Sure"

 

With a wave Morgan ran off and Hannibal entered the apartment

 

"Thank you for inviting me. I promise not to slaughter your guests"

 

He joked

 

"Oh good, and here I thought it'd be awkward"

 

Alana tossed back

 

*  *  *

 

When the party was over, the guests were gone and Morgan had all but passed out on the loveseat, Alana was at the door seeing Carol and Tony out. Carol had kept her distance from the cannibal in the room but Tony had gone to the man and began talking with him about serial killers. Now as Carol ushered him out and away from Hannibal, he put a hand on Alana's arm and said in his usual nonchalant way.

 

"I like him"

 

Carol shook her head at him with a smile. Alana laughed at the pair

 

"Why don't you take him home before he sobers up and realizes what he's talking about?"  
"I will but you know Tony. Outside of you, me and the students, he only spends time around serial killers"

 

This time both women laughed. when the last guests were gone Alana leaned against the closed door. Hannibal hadn't even pretended to not be listening in as he was browsing her bookshelves.

 

"I like Doctor Hill"  
"Is that a threat?"  
"You know it's not"  
"Do I? I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop"  
"Don't. I've ran out of shoes to drop"

 

His smile was easy and casual. Accepting the truce for what it was, Alana nodded and made a move to get Morgan

 

"I'd better put him in his room to sleep off the cake and candy"

 

Hannibal was faster. With a flourish he picked up the boy

 

"Let me. Just guide me to his room"

 

Together they navigated the corridor to reach the baby blue room with the toys and the family photos. Hannibal placed Morgan in his bed; Alana took his shoes off and pulled up the covers. After kissing him on the forehead and whispering goodnight they exited the room, leaving the spaceship nightlight on and the door open a fraction.

 

Hannibal placed an arm on either side of Alana against the wall

 

"Will you let me in?"

 

His voice was soft and wishful. So was Alana’s when she responded

 

"I already have. Don’t make me regret it"

 

she reached up to kiss him softly, sighing in his mouth when the kiss was reciprocated and then it was her turn to be picked up and placed in her bed.

 

*  *  *

 

The next morning Alana woke up due to a crash and a muffled curse.

 

"Morgan"

 

She said and climbed out of the bed ignoring the cramps in her legs and all the assorted pains that came with a night of sex after a long time. Pulling her nightdress on and then a robe she hurried to the kitchen to find a half dressed Hannibal putting a pound in the naughty jar.

 

"He said a bad word"

 

Morgan, clad in his pajamas explained from his perch on the counter. In his lap was a large mixing bowl and a broken egg laid on the floor.

 

"What are you two doing?"

 

She asked fetching the roll of paper to clean the egg up.

 

"We are making breakfast"

 

Hannibal responded as if it was the most normal thing in the world. It actually was. Alana nodded and dipped a finger in the bowl to taste.

 

"I have premade pancake mix you know"

 

Hannibal looked at her as if she had insulted him with the box of mix

 

"I know"

 

His deadpan caused Morgan to laugh splattering the mix all over his face. Alana shook her head, handed the remaining mix to Hannibal to make their breakfast and began wiping up Morgan’s face, her lips curled in the same smile as Hannibal’s and Morgan’s.

 

*  *  *

 

All in all, it was how a Christmas morning should be. Laughter, fun, and people who loved each other. The future was unknown as it should be. What mattered was the moment.

 

The End.


End file.
